


for so damn long

by savemeaplate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Childhood Friends, College Student Keith (Voltron), Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Grad Student Lance, Keith is super hot and knows it, Lance in daisy dukes, Lance with a nose ring, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Sex, Somnophilia, keith starts to ram lance in his sleep but then lance wakes up and is super into it, oh also lance's great ass, some mentions of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savemeaplate/pseuds/savemeaplate
Summary: Keith has had a crush on his older brother's best-friend Lance since he was thirteen. Lance shows up to his house for a friendly visit in some short shorts and a cropped shirt, and Keith has no goddamn boundaries.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 669
Collections: Everything, NSFW, Voltron (Legendary Defenders)





	for so damn long

**Author's Note:**

> more horny thoughts wooo!!! consent in this fic is pretty dubious so pleeease heed the tags (also there's some somnophilia)
> 
> come fuck around with me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/guardameunplato)

Keith knows something for an absolute fact—he’s fine as hell. 

Everyone’s told him as much. His mom says that he was supposed to be a Gerber baby. When he was little all the attention made him feel real heavy, like there was something leaden crawling up into his marrow every time someone looked at him, jutted out their bottom lip, and crooned “aaawww how  _ cute _ .” 

But now that he’s older it makes him feel like flying. He’ll gladly admit it too. He loves the recognition, loves being at the center of it. Loves how he can scroll through his contacts any given day and find someone to give him head. And college is  _ awesome _ . 

Not only does Keith get to finally take some classes that focus specifically on astronomy and aerospace engineering. There are  _ so _ many guys to pick from there. So many easy, wide-eyed targets. So willing, too. One look at the defined jaw, the dark eyes, and they’re coming back to his dorm with him.

Before college most of his hook-ups consisted of making out and oral, some heavy petting here and there. He rarely fucked anyone. But by the time he’s a sophomore things have  _ changed _ . Of course he’s real safe with it, never fucks around without a condom, never lets anybody fuck  _ him _ without one either. Gets tested regularly. And holy  _ shit _ is it fun. And just like hooking up and dating have always been, it’s real easy too. 

The only person who doesn’t seem all that impressed by him physically,  _ at all _ , is his older brother’s hot best friend, Lance. Keith’s known him since he was thirteen. Lance is three years his senior, has lived right across the street from them for the entirety of Keith’s teenaged life. 

It seems like a really messed up twist of fate that Lance is the one guy Keith can’t get. Cause Keith’s always had the biggest, dumbest crush on the boy. Keith’s pretty sure he knows it too. How can he not? Used to smile real easy and big and pretty whenever Shiro would tell him, in full view of Keith, how much his little  _ boyfriend _ missed him. Lance would ruffle his hair and Keith would duck away.

Then Keith would lock himself in his room to furiously rub one out, doing his absolute best to turn a goddamn head pat into jerk-off material.

When Keith gets home for the summer from his sophomore year of college, Lance is somehow even hotter than before. 

Their city has the best grad architecture program, so both Lance and Shiro have opted to stay home and attend, instead of leaving for anywhere too far.

Keith gets back home for summer break on a Saturday. As he’s getting the last of his stuff out of his mom’s car, he spots Lance from across the street, waving furiously at him with a wide, beautiful smile on his face. And he almost drops his suitcase on his foot like a cartoon anvil because  _ holy shit _ . 

Lance is in a pair of acid-washed daisy dukes and a tight black belly shirt, one that stops just below his belly button. Leaves out a straight, smooth strip of deep honey-colored skin that Keith has to pry his eyes away from. Like literally has to  _ pry _ his eyes away from, like you scrape used gum off of the bottom of a high school desk. 

And sure, yeah, it’s hot as shit in Dallas today. His legs, in his tight black jeans, feel like two hams in a pressure cooker right now. Plenty of people have on shorts and crop tops, walking up and down the street talking and laughing.

But it’s still overwhelming to see Lance’s smooth bronze legs go on and on like a film reel. And holy shit does he, like,  _ bathe _ in Nair? How the fuck is he so hairless? 

Lance is jogging across the street to him now, and Keith swallows hard at the way the muscles of his toned thighs bunch and release as he bounds towards his driveway. Lance almost gets hit by a Nissan as he’s crossing, but he just flips off the car with a lively “Fuck off, fucker!” And keeps on coming. 

“Kiki!” He exclaims as he throws his arms around Keith. “You’re home!”

Keith hasn’t been home since August. He’d spent his winter break at school, working on a research project with his advisor Dr. Smythe. His mom had been a little disappointed, and he’d felt bad. But the opportunity was just too exciting to pass up—there weren’t a ton of Astronomy PhD’s doing quark research, well,  _ anywhere _ anymore, so he didn’t want to miss it.

He hadn’t known that the list of people who’d missed him extended past his parents and Shiro. (Past pre-college fuck buddies notwithstanding, ahem).

Keith grumbles like he’s irritated, even as he wraps his arms around Lance’s waist, closes his eyes at how small it feels in his hold. Bites down on the  _ terrible _ impulse he has to grab at Lance’s ass. And Keith’s had this ass in his sights since he hit puberty, okay? He’d recognize it anywhere. So when he looks down the long line of Lance’s spine, there’s no way for him  _ not _ to notice that it’s gotten bigger. Definitely still as round as before (well, as far as he can tell from this angle), but fatter. Weightier. Fucking  _ hell _ does he want to touch it.

When Lance pulls away from him he’s still wearing that big gleaming smile, gorgeous brown hair falling into his face. It’s gotten longer, coils past his perfectly manicured brows. His nose ring, a delicate gold hoop that goes so goddamn well with his skin, glints in the sunshine coming down relentless. 

Lance raises a brow. “What’s with the face Kiki? You look like I just kicked you in the balls and stole your lunch money.” 

“You can’t keep calling me that Lance. I’m not a seventh grader anymore.”

Lance folds his arms against his chest.

“Take your pick. It’s either KiKi or Pierce the Veil’s backup member... or Wednesday Adams with a gym membership... or Sasuke without the trauma... or- “

Keith hates that he laughs at that last one. But maybe he doesn’t hate it, because it makes Lance’s pretty face just  _ light up _ . 

“Aaaanyways, I’ll be over later tonight to hang out. I’m bringing  _ tequilaaaa _ ,” he singsongs that second part. Gives Keith a mock sympathetic pout before he says, 

“Too old for my nicknames, too young for my tequila.”

Keith rolls his eyes, “I can hold my liquor Lance.”

“That’s  _ your _ business Keith. I’m an upstanding citizen. Can’t be caught aiding and abetting underage drinking.”

“It’s one more year!”

“It’s the law!” 

“Lance!” When Keith looks for the source of the voice, he finds Lance’s twin sister Veronica standing on their porch. She looks pissed. “Get back here you dumb slut! You burnt the plantains!” 

Lance jolts. “I’ll see you later Kiki.” He ruffles Keith’s hair, and even though Keith spent the better part of an hour this morning trying to get it to look exactly as sexy-messy as he wanted it to, he finds he doesn’t mind it. Not at all. 

Lance jogs back across the street with an affronted, 

“I’m not dumb!”

Later that night it’s just Keith, Shiro, and Lance at Keith’s house. Keith’s dad has dragged his mom out to some musical about a dancing anthropomorphic pear. 

Their laughing pings against every hard surface in the house, eats itself and grows till the whole place sounds like them. 

Lance talked up a big game earlier but Keith does manage to get some tequila sips in. Definitely not enough to get him drunk, or even tipsy really. And  _ definitely _ not as much as Shiro and Lance. At about eleven they’re both smashed, Lance the worse off. Even though he lives right across the street, Keith and drunk Shiro insist that he stays. There’s a guest room anyway. So they all go off to bed. 

Keith lays down, closes his eyes, and waits to fall asleep. And waits. And waits. He hears his parents’ car door open and shut as they come back home from their outing. A long stretch of time passes, and he’s still wide awake. His insomnia is nothing new. It usually only gets worse with alcohol but he’s a dumb-fuck. Got so caught up in the night, so caught up in Lance and his long toned legs and bright blue eyes that only got brighter, somehow, the more he drank. 

Aaand now that he’s thinking about Lance again he has  _ another _ problem. He feels himself stirring in his pajama bottoms. Seven years later and Lance still holds center stage in his spank bank. He laughs a bit at that, slips a hand under his waistband to take a hold of himself. Thinks about how Lance looked today, in those  _ short _ fucking shorts. How his shirt wrapped around him so tight that when his nipples perked up in their air-conditioned living room, Keith was able to make them out through the fabric. Two sharp points, pushing up against the cotton like they were keen on being seen. 

That  _ face _ . Those full, deep-pink lips that only got redder and redder the drunker Lance became, the more he chewed at them while they talked and joked. Those long, long lashes that always made Lance look like something animated, something straight out of a Disney feature. 

Keith wonders, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, if Lance swallows when he sucks dick. Or if he lets his partners come across that pretty face instead. Keith has always imagined that Lance is absolutely wild in bed. Maybe he licks at the white streaks when they drip down towards his swollen lips, looks up with those big round eyes at whoever’s just fucked his mouth the whole time he does it.

His grip gets tighter around himself, but his hand is dry and his lube’s too far. 

And that _ ass _ . Keith is pretty sure it’s enough to give a man a coronary. Earlier Lance had reached over the armrest of the couch that he was sitting on to get his phone from the side-table, and Keith had been granted a full view of Lance’s ass. How the full cheeks slipped past the fraying denim. There’s no way Lance could wear underwear with something like that. Right? Keith had to nearly tear into his bottom lip with his strangely sharp teeth to will away the boner that was just raring to join their little drinking sesh. 

Lance had been pretty drunk. He probably didn’t have the wherewithal to do much but fall into the bed in their guest room. Probably couldn’t even bring himself to undress fully. 

Keith teases at his length, gives himself just a light stroke with his dry palm. He’s not gonna be able to sleep for a while now, he has time.

Keith wonders how Lance is laying. If he’s on his side, spine gently curving against the bed, or if he’s on his stomach, cheek pressed up against a pillow with his ass out, for the taking... Shit, he was just a few doors down... Keith could just go check— 

Keith has to slow down, forces himself to roll over and grab the lube because he’s so fucking hard at the thought. That Lance is still in those skimpy little shorts, the ones that can barely contain all the ass he has, sleeping soundly just a few steps away from Keith. 

Keith sits on the edge of his bed, thinking. It wouldn’t hurt to just  _ look _ right? He should probably check up on Lance anyway. Lance might be an experienced drinker, but a little check-in from a friend couldn’t possibly hurt. 

Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. 

So Keith gets up. The floorboards creak some under his feet and he wants to die a little bit, but he manages to make it to Lance’s guest room without much more noise. He opens the door as slow as he can, peers in. 

Lance is on his side, with his face to the door. Even from this far away, even though Keith’s cracked the door open so minutely that he couldn’t squeeze a foot through the space if he tried, he can see how Lance’s lashes draw down his cheeks like the full, packed strings of a black feather. His mouth is slightly open, and his face is smushed into the pillow he’s laying on. The position squeezes his cheeks and makes his Cupid’s bow even more prominent than it usually is. His hands are tucked under his face, make a cute little pillow of their own that reminds Keith of when people are miming sleep so you know exactly what they mean. 

His thick hair falls across the pillow in a fluid rush, like moving water. Damn it really has gotten longer. Keith knows it’s actually brown but in the dark it looks almost black. Keith loves how one of the longer front pieces fall across the distinct jut of Lance’s cheekbone. He’s so beautiful. He almost looks like a doll. 

He has one leg drawn up to his chest, the other tucked under the comforter. 

Keith’s just about to call it a wrap, drink his fill of Lance’s gorgeous sleeping face and tip-toe back to his room like the Pink Panther. 

But then Lance makes this  _ noise _ , this honeyed, drawn-out little  _ mmmmm _ like he’s oh-so satisfied with whatever he’s seeing in whatever dream he’s in, and Keith’s dick starts to firm up again. It had softened some from the waning of his immediate horniness but that is  _ out _ now. 

And when Lance shifts, rolls over so his back’s to the door and Keith can see that  _ yes _ , he’s still in his denim shorts... well, Keith’s getting harder. Slammed into a memory of the first time he ever came thinking about Lance. How swift and hard and  _ brutal _ of an orgasm it was. 

Lance’s shorts have ridden up a bit. His soft cheeks tumble out of them, and Keith bites his lip. His shirt’s ridden up too, and Keith can see his lower back, where strong, lean muscles bank the furrow of his spine. Keith sees a delicious crescent moon of rich brown skin. 

And Keith... well, Keith is hard. Full stop. Harder than adamantium steel. Holy shit, stick him in an X-Men feature. 

Lance makes that sound again, the dangerous little  _ mmmm _ , and Keith is just  _ not _ that strong of a man. 

He opens the door, slow and quiet, and walks in. Closes it behind him and, after a few moments of consideration, locks it too. 

Q: Does this make him a fucking creep? 

A: Absolutely yes. 

Q: Does that make him want to stop? 

A: Absolutely no. 

He starts to move towards the bed, as quiet as he can manage. A floorboard creaks cricket-loud, and Keith pauses. Waits to see if Lance will move. But he doesn’t so Keith keeps going, almost jumps right out of his skin when he feels something hard and solid (that’s not his dick, aha) against his thigh. When he reaches a hand into his pocket, he realizes that he’d left his room with his bottle of lube. 

After he manages to jam his soul back into his body he keeps going till he’s at the bed, standing over Lance. So close he can hear him breathing.

Lance’s arm is outstretched now, like he’s reaching for something. Keith sees his hand flex, and wonders again what he’s dreaming about. 

Keith feels almost ten years of unbelievably horny thoughts broiling just under the thin outer crust of him, like he’s a planet with no core, just hot mantle and a brittle exterior. 

Even back at school, Lance had been on his mind. It went about fifty-fifty: sometimes he would see the faces of his hook-ups for the people that they actually were, and other times he’d have somebody under him, moaning and trembling, and they’d morph into Lance. 

He always came the hardest when they did. 

So when he reaches a hand out to finally touch the underside of a plump cheek, it is with the druggy, heady understanding that if thirteen-year old Keith could see him now, he would collapse into tears of joy. 

And  _ fuuuck _ is it soft. Firm, too, but it’s the give that Keith’s stuck on, the way his fingers sink into the flesh when he cups it as gently as he can manage. 

He looks up at Lance’s face where it’s pushed up against the pillows and it hasn’t changed. He’s still asleep. 

So Keith closes his grip a bit, makes it a little tighter. Looks down at his handful and immediately reaches his other hand into his pants to ease the ache between his legs. And that’s when he starts to wonder: just how drunk  _ was _ Lance? How much can he actually get away with? 

With that one hand gripping a thick cheek, with no intention of letting go anytime soon, Keith wraps a hand around himself. Knows he could pull down his pants to get to the tip of his dick, where some helpfully-slick precum is beading up, to make his teasing, cursory strokes smoother. But he doesn’t quite want to break this moment yet.

The shorts have been hiked up with all of Lance’s movement, and Keith takes a moment to trace a frayed edge where it digs just slightly into the cheek. Lance has always been one to wear as little clothes as possible but  _ fuck _ , his ass is just  _ bursting _ out of these. Does he know how he looks? What he’s doing to Keith, what he’s probably doing to anyone who looks at him in these shorts?

Keith traces the rough seam where it runs between the cheeks. His eyes flick up to check Lance’s face again and find it still, unmoving. Nothing but steady, quiet breathing from the boy. Good. 

Keith reaches a steady, patient hand towards the front of the shorts, tenses up his body to keep his balance as his fingers crawl across the sturdy denim to look for the button. He finds it, lets it rest between his thumb and forefinger for a little bit as he waits to see if Lance will move. If this will finally be the moment that he wakes up and knees Keith in the throat for being a perv.

But he doesn’t.

Keith stops stroking himself so this doesn’t end way sooner than he wants it to, just holds his dick in something two steps below a throttle. 

Because when he pops open the button on Lance’s shorts, he swears he hearsfeels it like he’s a bat picking up sonar. 

After the button’s undone he doesn’t even let himself hesitate. Just pulls the zipper down and slips a hand into the shorts to find—

Holy  shit , he was wrong. Lance  _ is _ wearing something under the shorts. It’s definitely fabric, feels soft and cottony under Keith’s finger tips. But it can’t be a pair of briefs? The cut-offs are way too short for that. Keith would’ve seen them. Keith’s breathing is getting heavier, because if Lance isn’t wearing briefs, but he  _ is _ wearing underwear, then they must be— 

He pulls his hand out of the shorts, reluctant. He’d barely even felt Lance’s dick, but he’ll get back to that. He  _ has _ to get back to that. 

Keith gets a hold of Lance’s waistband and starts to ease the shorts down his hip. He can’t get them all the way off with Lance on his side like that. He has to move him. So he slips a hand under Lance’s shoulder, gets the other hand on Lance’s thigh ( _ fuck _ it’s so soft) and gently flips him onto his stomach. He takes a quiet moment to run his hand through the boy’s fluffy curls as he carefully angles his head so that there’s not too much of a strain on his neck. Keith’s feeling bolder the longer this goes on, so after a brief moment of thought he takes Lance’s arms, where they’re stretched out on either side of him, and pillows them under his head instead. 

Keith starts to pull the shorts off then, feels his face heat up further at how they get caught on the fatty cheeks. How he has to honest-to-fuck  _ tug _ and  _ pull _ them over Lance’s ass. As he’s taking them off he spots a small triangle of white fabric, just at the apex of Lance’s crease. And  _ fuck _ .

It’s a thong. It’s a fucking thong. 

He takes the shorts off completely, just a little too zealous, a little too reckless. But it’s getting harder and harder to control himself.

He gets on the bed, kneels over Lance’s body with his legs on either side of the older boy’s calves. 

Keith gulps. He’s always had the impression that Lance’s ass is round as hell, but it’s a completely different, fucking  _ ascendant _ feeling to see it for himself. To see how the thick, toned thighs lead into the gorgeous, round ass, leads in to the trim little waist he’d literally  _ just _ had his arms around. 

To say fucking nothing of the fact that Lance is 

In. 

A.

Fuck. 

Ing. 

Thong.

Keith’s hands are on that ass—both of ‘em—in a speed-of-light second. They fill out his palms completely and holy  _ shit _ . How is Lance supposed to not become a habit? Keith’s barely done anything and he already wants to do it again. Over and  _ over _ again. 

He parts the cheeks and when he sees how that delicate white string clings to the crease, sees the tight little hole that it stripes across, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. 

He breathes deep, in then out, so he can get his head back. So he can stop himself from cumming in his pants like a Hentai protagonist. 

He leans down and places a kiss on one of the cheeks. Gives in to impulse and sinks his teeth into it, just a little bit. He pulls the string of the thong aside so he can see the tight little starburst. 

He slides the flat of his tongue straight across it, comes away with the taste of vanilla soap and sweat. He has to tamp down the groan that’s coming up his throat as he goes back for more, prods at the little hole. Nudges at it in tender but insistent motions till it finally yields under the light pressure. 

And it gives in to him beautifully. Keith finds himself wondering how many times Lance has found himself speared open on dick. Strangely enough, Keith finds that the thought doesn’t make him jealous in the least. If anything it makes him  _ hornier _ , thinking about how good Lance must be at taking it if his hunch proves true. 

He slides his tongue into the hot, tight passage in a slick crawl, and Lance lets out a quiet moan above him. Keith pulls away to check his face, but his eyes are still closed, mouth still slack. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Keith can’t help but hiss. 

He shoves his hand back into his pants, grips himself as he works Lance open on his tongue. When the sweet hole has loosened and he can get most of the wet muscle inside, he starts to tongue-fuck Lance properly. Actually thrusts into him, like his tongue’s a dildo or a dick. Lance’s unconscious moans become a constant. 

Keith eats his fill, devours Lance’s hole with hungry swipes and digs, nips at the inside of a beautiful cheek just because he can. Doesn’t stop until Lance’s entire crease is wet with spit and his mouth is getting tired. 

Keith gives himself two harsh pulls of his dry hand, meant to strike some sort of aggressive compromise between not touching himself at all and stroking himself to a messy finish across Lance’s thighs.

When he’s stopped himself from cumming too soon for what feels like the thirtieth time tonight, he takes out his lube and squirts some onto his fingers. 

When they’re sufficiently slicked he presses them to Lance’s hole and it just...  _ sucks _ them in. Two of his fingers. In a few moments they’ve disappeared into Lance up till the final knuckle. 

But  _ fuck _ is it still tight. Keith’s fingers are pressed right up against each other, crushed together by the snug clutch of Lance’s hole. 

Keith bites his lip as he waits it out, as he rubs slowly and unfalteringly at the silky walls of the hot channel. Eventually, second by second by second, Lance loosens up. Loosens up enough for Keith to pull out, and then push back in, steady, steady,  _ steady _ , in his first full stroke of the night. On the next deep stroke he makes a concerted effort to aim for Lance’s sweet spot, the knuckles of his folded fingers, the ones not getting in on the action, pressed up tight against the skin of Lance’s cheek. 

“ _ Nnnngh... _ ”

Keith feels a glob of precum gush its way past his tip. 

“ _ Fuck _ baby, that’s it...”

He stretches his fingers apart, as far as they can go. 

“ _ Unnhhh _ ...”

“That stretch too much for you sweetheart?” Keith murmurs, marveling at how his scissoring fingers pull open Lance’s little entrance. When he stuffs his fingers as deep as they’ll go again, he traces the lubed rim with his thumb. Speeds up his thrusts finally, till he’s filling Lance up with those two fingers, pressing down on his spot just to hear how sweet he’ll moan. 

Keith slips a hand under Lance’s stomach, lifts up his hips a bit so he can pull aside the front of the thong. 

He finds Lance hard and dripping, dick hot as burning coal. 

Keith wonders if he can make him cum in his sleep. Wet dreams are a thing after all. He doesn’t see why not.

He leaves Lance’s dick alone for now though. Brings his hand back to a thick, supple cheek as he inches a third finger into Lance’s obedient hole. 

After some thrusts that have Lance squirming against the sheets, breathing heavy while he’s still deep in sleep, Keith decides that it’s time. 

He couldn’t contain his excitement if you paid him. 

When he removes his fingers Lance’s hole rushes closed, definitely not as shut up as it had been before (heh, Keith has taken care of that), but pretty damn close. And Keith knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that Lance is going to be  _ so  _ goddamn tight.

Okay, _ this _ is the part that Keith’s gonna actually need to use his deep breathing exercises for. 

He’s so impatient that he doesn’t even take the time to take his pants off all the way. Just pushes them far enough down his thighs to free his dick. He takes an extra pillow from beside them. Slips an arm under Lance’s stomach to pull him up a bit, props him against the extra cushioning so Keith can get at his ass better. 

His fingers tremble around the ass cheek that grips in his hand. He bites down on his lip again, hard, and slips into Lance’s tight heat. Enters in one continuous stroke, lets out the heaviest fucking breath when he bottoms out, balls nestled between Lance’s cheeks while his pretty little hole grips him  _ sooo fucking good _ . 

And when he looks up, Lance’s eyes are still closed. His brows are furrowed, plump red lips popped open in a little  _ o _ as Keith starts to move. 

Keith raises a shaky hand to his own forehead to wipe off some sweat. 

He takes a hold of Lance’s hips, and starts to rock into him slow and steady. And  _ fuck _ does it feel good... how does it feel so good? It’s never like this when—

Oooh shit. He forgot a condom didn’t he. But instead of making him panic, the thought just makes him harder. He’s spearing Lance open on his bare dick, can feel every single smooth,  _ hot _ inch of his tight  _ tight _ cavern. And Lance is none the wiser, fully unconscious. Completely unaware that his sweet, round ass is being taken, stretched open and pounded. 

Keith can’t help it, he goes harder. Feels more precum leaking from his dick, knows that it’s dripping straight into Lance, and almost fucking loses it right there. He has to pause momentarily. Lance’s shirt has ridden up about half-way up his back, and Keith brings a hand to the naked skin. It’s so warm to the touch. His mind is whirring like a spinning top when he realizes, with a kind of giddy exhilaration, that he can touch as much of Lance as he wants to right now. 

So he does.

As he braces himself on his knees and fucks into Lance in some steady, slow thrusts, he runs his hands under his tight shirt to feel at the skin. Eventually frees his hand from the fabric to thumb at the gentle slope of Lance’s neck, traces a path up to his earlobe, pierced with a small golden hoop that matches the one in his nostril. 

But then his pace picks back up and he’s pulling out till only his tip remains, then fucking back in so rough and fast that it jostles Lance’s sleeping form. 

And Lance isn’t quiet, even when he’s not awake. 

He mewls and moans as Keith slams into his tight ass. Pants when Keith adopts, periodically, a frantic pace that has their skin slapping loud in the privacy of the room.  _ Whimpers _ when Keith hits his sweet spot. 

And Lance’s ass... fucking  _ hell _ , Lance’s ass is a thing in constant motion. Jiggles when Keith pulls out, when he thrusts in. 

Keith’s just gone back to greedily gripping a handful when he hears it, 

“ _ K... eith.... K... eith... _ ”

He stills, though it feels a bit like trying to stop a high-speed merry go-round with nothing but his bare hands. Jerked so hard he feels it all down his arms. 

He’s never heard Lance call him by his full name before. He’s “Kiki,” “sweetie,” “Shiro’s smaller older brother.” 

Shit, is he awake? Does this mean that he’s awake? There’s no way for Keith to explain his way out of this. What’s he supposed to say? Oh sorry I slipped and fell into your tight hole over and over again? 

But when his eyes snap back to Lance’s face, he’s still asleep. And so the reckless, horny part of his brain wins out. 

With eyes fixed on Lance’s face like he’s some fucking entree and Keith’s eaten nothing but saltine crackers for two weeks straight, he takes hold of Lance’s hips once more. Pulls out till Lance’s pliant hole kisses the tip of his dick, then rams back in rough and swift. 

_ “K... eith... Keeeith...” _

And just like that, Keith feels the biggest goddamn smirk snapping apart his anxiety. 

He leans down till he’s breathing in the smell of Lance’s sharp-but-sweet citrus shampoo. 

“Dreaming about me... baby?” Keith pants as he starts to thrust gently. But  _ fuuuuck _ he wants to draw this out. Can’t get enough of being inside Lance. Damn. 

He always had a feeling it would be this good. 

He kisses Lance’s temple. 

“Been dreaming about you too... for so damn long... all I could think about was  _ fuckin’ _ you like this baby...”

He punctuates it with a single rough thrust that interrupts the gentle, slow ones. 

And he watches Lance blink his big blue eyes open. 

Lance squints in confusion, gorgeous azures snapping to Keith as he tries to rapidly catalogue everything that’s happening. 

“Keith? Wha... what  _ nnnhh _ —” 

Keith interrupts him with an indulgent grind, one that makes his own stomach flutter hot, like it’s full of loose campfire embers. 

“Wh—... h—...  _ fuck _ ...”

Lance’s eyes fall closed again, only this time he’s awake enough to capture his bottom lip between two white rows of perfect teeth. 

He rocks into the next thrust, like he can’t help it. Tight little hole quivering around Keith’s thick shaft. Keith pauses though, balls-deep inside him, to give him a chance to finish his thought. 

Lance gulps, pants. Tries to catch his breath. He looks at Keith with a heated expression that makes Keith’s dick twitch, low-lidded eyes with dark, dilated pupils. And says, stunned and a  _ whole lot less pissed than he probably should be _ , 

“Y-you’re inside me...” 

Keith pulls out and pistons back in in confirmation. 

“Yeah, baby...  _ mmm,  _ you were an angel when I stretched you open...  _ real _ good for me... just laid there and took it,  _ fuck _ ... let me play with that pretty ass till I was ready to fuck it...” 

“ _ Oh God _ ...” 

In one mostly fluid motion, Keith uses his hold on Lance’s hips to pull him back so he’s on his knees. Lance keeps his arms pillowed under his head. Looks back at Keith with his hair falling into his face and a searing hot look in his eyes that Keith’s gonna carry with him into every wet dream ever. 

His back is in a perfect arch that puts his lovely fat ass on display. Keith takes the time to trace the line of a stretch mark that curves towards his lower back. 

It’s the perfect position for an ass like this. 

“ _ Fucking hell _ Keith,” Lance pouts, and Keith’s heart picks up pace inside his chest. So do his thrusts, “y-you’re not even,  _ hah _ , wearing a condom... w-were you just gonna... cum inside me baby? L-leave me all wet and st— _ ah! _ —icky?” 

Keith moans, ducks his head down to finally kiss Lance. He’d thought about it a lot, what his first kiss with Lance might be like. Never imagined it would be as messy and poorly-angled and  _ dirty _ as it is, just an exchange of wet tongues. Never imagined that it’d be shared while he was fucking into Lance, swallowing down the older boy’s own overwhelmed moans.

Never imagined it’d be so unbelievably hot. 

When he pulls back and starts fucking that ass hard, harder than he’d been going before while Lance was still asleep, he slaps a cheek, makes it quake from the force. Lance lets out his sluttiest moan of the night. It’s a good thing everyone else’s bedrooms are on the first floor. 

“ _ Y-yes... like that baby, just like that baby _ ...” 

Lance reaches his hands back, lets them overlap with Keith’s as he grips his own cheeks to spread them. Keith can see exactly how his shining lubed dick stretches Lance’s little hole, how the slick rim clenches around his shaft, lets him in so fucking easy. 

“ _ Mmm _ perfect baby...” Keith tells him. He’s close,  _ so fucking _ close. No amount of deep breathing is getting him back from that ledge at this point. 

“Yeah, like that Lance...  _ just _ like that... hold yourself open for me like a sweet little slut...” 

“I-It’s good Keith, it’s  _ sofuckinggood... _ ” 

Keith’s gonna come. That’s a fact. But he’s struck with the unrelenting need to see Lance’s face when he does it. 

Keith pulls out, flips Lance onto his back, and as soon as he sees his face he can’t look away. He’s so goddamn pretty. He catches Keith’s eyes, gives him a wobbly grin. His hair’s glued to his forehead with sweat. 

Keith pulls him to the edge of the bed by his ankle, loves the little yelp that earns. Keith takes a standing position next to the edge, spreads Lance’s legs so he can stand between them. Keith’s surprised his own legs can even hold him up, but he’s thankful. 

With Lance’s knees hooked over the crooks of his elbows, he slips back inside him. Makes sure he rolls in aaall the way so he can hit his sweet spot. 

“ _ Ah! Mmm, y-yes baby _ ...” 

Lance’s thong is still skewed, hard dick curved up towards his belly button. And now that he’s awake, he takes the opportunity to touch Keith too. Warm questing hands drag along Keith’s chest, his stomach. A finger flicks at his nipple and makes him shudder, makes his thrusts go erratic. 

“S-sensitive baby?”

Lance gives him a wicked smirk. So Keith goes harder, fucks it right off his face. 

Keith wraps a hand around Lance’s dick to stroke him, and only a few thrusts later Lance is cumming against his stomach, splattering stark white against the planes of his belly. He grips the sheets above him in his orgasm, throws his head back with his eyes shut tight and his sweet mouth open in one long, silent scream.

He looks like a centerfold in a magazine too dirty for print. 

Lance is coming down and Keith’s still going, satisfied, slightly overwhelmed mewls as he looks up at Keith. 

“C-can I have your cum, baby?” He asks breathily. “Finish,  _ unnghh fuck, _ in m-my mouth baby...”

And how the hell is Keith supposed to say no to that?

“Fucking  _ slut _ ,” he groans as he pulls out. 

Lance laughs delightedly, and as he’s flipping over and shifting around with a dancer’s grace Keith smacks his ass with an open palm, makes him lose his balance. Lance pouts at him over his shoulder, makes Keith want a second round immediately. 

Lance moves until he’s laying on his stomach facing Keith, beautiful ass a set of two fat, round hills that rise from the perfect, smooth expanse of his defined back. 

Keith guides Lance’s head to his dick. He was already close so with the wet heat of Lance’s mouth, all it really takes is three or four swipes from that talented tongue on his sensitive tip and he’s  _ gone _ . Cums so hard he’s pretty sure he blacks out for a minute.

He spurts across Lance’s gorgeous face for what feels like a beautiful eternity, but couldn’t possibly be long enough. Couldn’t ever be long enough.

Lance works him through the last of his soul-healing orgasm, catches the final white drips of his spend on an eager pink tongue. 

Lance looks up at him, tongue covered in white, then swallows.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Keith groans as he leans down to kiss him. Shares the taste of himself with Lance in a deep, smacking kiss. 

Before the weight of what’s just happened has the chance to really settle on his chest, Lance takes him by the hand and drags him back onto the bed. Lance is covered in come, and Keith’s sweats are smeared with lube. 

Lance lays against Keith’s chest, looks up at him so long that Keith feels himself start to blush. 

“What?” He wants to know. 

Lance laughs. “Adorable.” Pouts as he considers something. 

“Could’ve just used your words instead of sticking your dick in me while I was asleep, Kiki.”

The teasing lilt to Lance’s comment makes Keith’s face burn hotter. 

“Lance I—”

“I... I was actually awake for a lot of it..." Lance looks away, kind of bashful. Has Keith ever seen Lance bashful? "You know, when you started fucking me and stuff... kind of hard to stay asleep with a big dick inside you...” 

Keith flushes darker at the big dick comment, but there’s a more pressing question to be asked. 

“You... you were awake?”

Lance nods. “ _ Fuck _ , it was so weird at first... liking my best friend’s little brother... always saw you as kid—”

“Lance you literally _just_ swallowed my cum—”

“—until I didn’t.” 

Lance runs his hands across Keith’s pecs. 

“This fucking chest....”

“You knew about my crush.” It’s not a question. And Keith can’t help but smile a bit. 

“Hell yeah.” Lance starts to ease down the length of Keith’s body, till his mouth’s hovering over Keith’s crotch. 

Keith props himself up on his elbows to watch, can already feel himself stirring again. So fucking grateful for his youth.

Lance looks up at him with a ravenous glint in his eye. 

“But you don’t know the first thing about  _ mine _ yet.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i've honestly been wanting to write about Lance getting wrecked in his sleep for soo damn long (hah), so this was a joy to do


End file.
